


not a nurse

by stjimmys



Series: american idiot [5]
Category: American Idiot - Green Day/Armstrong
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, loOk this was a mistake, not really actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjimmys/pseuds/stjimmys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy felt himself tense, nearly wanting to beg to have those hands grasping his blond mohawk with some type of death grip. Even though they were rarely civil with each other - he took her out for late-night parties with booze and cigarettes lacing their tongues, she threw paint at him whenever he was getting bored of posing for her - Jimmy wasn't going to just outright kiss her pretty plump lips. Things like that took time, there was a lead up to those things. At least, that was how he learned; he hated the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not a nurse

**Author's Note:**

> this was purely because of my friend Claire, blame her. (ily Claire youre the bomb)

“You taking up nursing, Jimmy?” Whatsername looking at him her spot on the floor, leaned over a canvas and delicately letting the paint brushes’ bristles spread against the white paper, nearly dying the blank page purple.

Jimmy was on the other side of the room, needle in hand. He wasn’t open about his habit, but his itch for a fix was too great to ignore. In the moment, it had felt like a great idea. Now, it left a bad taste on the tip of his tongue, in the back of his throat. When Whatsername looked at him though - she didn’t seem shocked. Needless to say, they were both rooming in an old apartment for college, and Jimmy - for as long as he could remember - had had a needle jammed into the crook of his arm since he got out of range of his parents and his older brothers’ corpse. 

“You awake?” Whatsername’s words rang in his ears like a lullaby. Or a demand. It could have been either; or both.

“No,” Jimmy mumbled, unsure if he was answering the question about becoming a nurse, of the one about being coherently attentive. He decided to answer the latter. “No, I’m awake. I’m awake.”

“Okay, what are you doing with that needle, then? Are you actually gonna go get a degree in medical science now?” She ran a hand through her hair, getting her fingers stuck in her curls. 

Jimmy felt himself tense, nearly wanting to beg to have those hands grasping his blond mohawk with some type of death grip. Even though they were rarely civil with each other - he took her out for late-night parties with booze and cigarettes lacing their tongues, she threw paint at him whenever he was getting bored of posing for her - Jimmy wasn't going to just outright kiss her pretty plump lips. Things like that took time, there was a leadup to those things. At least, that was how he learned; he hated the process.

“No, why would you say that?” Jimmy’s eyes widened, more confused now. Did a needle indicate becoming a doctor? Was that a good thing? “Should I be?” He was too withdrawn from the rig as a whole to realize that this was all just a joke to Whatsername.

Whatsername laughed and continued to paint, but soon dropped her brush into the mucky water and shoved her canvas to the side. She grabbed an old sketchbook of hers, and pulled a pencil out from behind her ear. “Wait. Put it in,” she motioned towards the needle. Jimmy stared at her for a moment, terribly punch-drunk. Was she, like, wanting him to indulge in his habit? “I’m gonna sketch it, just don’t press the pusher down.”

Jimmy looked down at the needle in his hand, the tube wrapped tightly around his forearm. The tip hung loose against his skin. Putting the needle down, he grabbed the end and tugged it until he could see his skin going paler. He tugged it harder and put the end in between his teeth, breathing heavily. He was eager now, his veins aching so much now. He knew Whatsername was basically teasing him with his needle, letting him stick himself but not leak the Holy Water into his bloodstream - but this was Whatsername, and he loved her.

Jimmy clenched his fist and carefully slid the needle in, wincing and grunting. He resisted pressing down, and instead lifted his head to look over at Whatsername as she furiously sketched him. Jimmy groaned, hitting the back of his head against the wall. He was desperate for this hit, he needed it so badly - and Whatsername was taunting him with the rigs’ point sticking in his arm, nothing going in and relieving him.

“Okay, now go and press it,” Whatsername whispered, dragging her pencil across the page. Jimmy didn’t need to hear her say ‘go’, his finger automatically shoved the pusher down and in went the dope, warm and comforting. He opened his mouth and a single groan came out from the back of his throat. He wanted to cry out in agony - he hadn’t hit the vein correctly, and he was going to have a huge fucking bruise in his elbow by tomorrow - as the good shit sunk and melted in his lifelines. It hit his heart immediately and he began sweating, shaking and still grasping the rig in the crook of his arm.

\---

Jimmy either blacked out, or nearly overdosed and went to Hell afterwards. He was around Whatsername, both arms holding her to his chest. She was asleep, dark curls tangling around Jimmy’s fingers. His chest was bare, and the tube still around his forearm; the needle was nowhere to be seen.

**Author's Note:**

> should I write more of this au oh jesus


End file.
